Here. We. Go! My version of the chapter that started it all. Here's hoping it doesn't disappoint! *yeets chapter and runs*

Enjoy! - Glitterb x

Chapter 13: Confessions

For half a second after he entered the light, I panicked. My heart began to thump harder, my breath quickened, and I took an involuntary step forward, my hands rising again from where they'd dropped to my sides. That was the amount of time it took me to realise that no, he hadn't actually gone up in a blaze of flame – though I could understand how anyone who had seen this sight in the past might have come to that conclusion. The flair of light reflecting off his skin was so sudden, so bright, anyone would be forgiven for thinking it was caused by spontaneous combustion, especially if that was what they were expecting. But after a few moments of terror and a few frantic blinks, I realised what was actually happening. His white skin was quite literally sparkling, the sunlight bouncing off it as if hitting a layer of diamonds embedded all across the surface. Tiny rainbows of light danced across his skin and shimmered on the fabric of his clothes, like the sun's rays had passed through a prism. It almost hurt to look at him – more than his usual painful beauty, but the squint-inducing sting of a very bright light shining into your eyes. I was dimly aware that my mouth was hanging open and I probably looked like a complete idiot, but I couldn't bring myself to care right at this second. As I adjusted to the glare, I could finally read his expression; it was wary, careful, assessing me as closely as I was looking at him, clearly trying to read my thoughts on my face where he couldn't simply pluck them out of my head. I took another step closer, hand still outstretched, trying to school my features into something appropriately reassuring but knowing I was probably too awestruck to make much of a difference.

"Stay there, please," he said, holding up his hand and sounding a little strained.

"It's okay," I replied in the most soothing tone I could muster; it came out in little more than a whisper, but I was sure he could hear me. "I'm here. I'm not scared."

His brow creased, the scattering light shifting with the movement. "You aren't?"

I shook my head firmly. "No. Not of you, at least."

Edward took one step forward – just one, but it felt like a victory, a reclaiming of land lost by his cautiousness. "What are you afraid of?"

I saw no reason not to be honest, not when he was being so open with me. "I'm afraid you aren't real. That I'm suddenly going to wake up on my first day here and the last few months will all have been a dream. I'm afraid this is all in my head."

He took another step. "And you don't want that?"

He was so uncertain; my heart ached like it was going to split in two. It made me wonder how long it had been since someone had said something like this to him, or indeed if anyone ever had. Despite my fears about beautiful vampire exes, I was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, he had never experienced anything like this either.

"I really don't want that," I told him, truthfully and fervently, hoping he heard in my words what I couldn't quite say out loud, what still felt too big and too heavy for this fragile moment.

I know you want to go. I know you're afraid. But please stay. Stay with me. Be with me. Be mine, and let me be yours, forever.

For a long time, we just stood there, watching each other. My eyes adjusted to the brightness, but I couldn't get used to just how overwhelmingly, stunningly, heartbreakingly wonderful he looked. Nothing I had ever seen before could compare, nothing I could imagine even came close. He searched my face, his eyes tight and his shoulders tense. Even breathing felt like it was breaking the moment, so utterly still was he; I wished I could stand as still too, be a statue like he was so that we could stay in this moment forever. At the same time, I wanted – no, I needed him to make a decision, to either dash off and leave me here or come closer and be with me. Though the former would surely shatter me, it would at least be a decision. This strange limbo we were in was its own kind of torture.

Choose, I willed him, just choose, and let us get on with whatever comes next.

Finally, blessedly, he moved. It was one step at a time, careful and cautious, but he walked towards me until we were only a few feet apart. Then, like he had in my bedroom on that night that felt like a lifetime ago, he gracefully folded himself down onto the floor and lay back in the flowers. The shimmering light made their petals look pale and lifeless in comparison.

"Can I…" I whispered, not knowing quite what I wanted to ask for.

Edward seemed to read me better than he claimed he could for a moment and gently patted the grass beside him. I moved one more step closer, watching him for signs of tension and, seeing none, settling myself down on the floor within an arm's reach. I stayed sitting up rather than lying beside him, knowing that I would lose my current uninterrupted view if I did, then put my elbow on my knee and my chin in my hand and surveyed him more carefully now that I was closer up. He had closed his eyes, and I saw that the shadows, though still present, were small today, not the dark bruises they had been when we first met. The skin of his eyelids was a soft lavender, just barely touched by the sunlight. There was the slightest hint of a pink flush underneath the white, perhaps from his hunt last night. His hair, the only part of him not glittering, was nonetheless lit up in the sun, blazing like it was made from polished copper. It looked so soft, shifting slightly in the wind that brushed the grass and flowers against our skin and tugged at my own hair hanging loose down my back. All the movement made it all the clearer just how still he was, like a statue toppled into the grass, made of some rare or as yet undiscovered crystalline marble. Every line of his skin seemed to have been carved, forming defined ridges down his throat, across the planes of his face, around his bare lower arms.

My searching gaze fell on his lips and I saw they weren't still like the rest of him, but were instead moving just slightly, like he was talking to himself too quietly for me to hear, yet so fast they were almost trembling and there would have been no hope of trying to guess what he was saying. I watched for a moment before my curiosity got the better of me, and I had to break the stillness to ask, "What are you doing?"

He opened one eye – butterscotch gold, lighter than I had ever seen them – and arched a questioning eyebrow at me. I tapped my own bottom lip, hoping that he would know what I was talking about.

He smiled softly and closed his eyes again. "Just singing to myself. It relaxes me."

We sat in silence for a long while. He kept his eyes closed and I kept watching him, taking him in, trying to understand how the dancing sparkles could be happening. It truly looked like his skin was faceted in some way, though I was sure it had always been smooth as silk on the scattered occasions when I had touched it. I reached out a somewhat hesitant finger and brushed it along the outside of his arm, from the edge of his rolled-up sleeve all the way down to the bump of the bone at his wrist. I couldn't believe how cautious I was being, thinking back to how close we had been on Thursday night. But it was another of the moments where it felt important to slow down, to follow his lead. This wasn't a step back, like it had felt before, but a very big step forward that we needed time to adjust to. I shifted another inch closer, just to test it. When I checked his face to try and gauge his mood, the trembling lips had stilled but were now smiling.

"Is this alright?" I asked, bringing my fingertip round his wrist and back up the inside of his arm. In a movement so fast it almost didn't exist, he twisted it around so that I could reach easier.

"It's very nice," he murmured softly, contentedly. "I can feel the warmth of your skin on mine... you can't imagine what it's like. I haven't had this kind of contact with a human before."

I certainly liked the sound of that. I switched the single finger for my full hand, laying my palm flat against the inside of his wrist, then trailing up his arm again, my fingers tracing each blue-tinged vein. He sighed heavily. When I moved back down his arm again, he shifted, another almost invisible movement, so that our hands rested palm to palm against each other. I froze, slightly startled by the suddenness and the unexpected touch.

His eyes popped open and he began to pull away. "I'm sorry..."

I pressed my hand more firmly to his and folded our fingers together clumsily. "It's okay, it was just a little sudden. I'm alright."

His smile had turned wry. "It's far too easy to be myself with you."

I smiled, watching our joined hands as he readjusted the weave of our fingers to a more comfortable position. "I'm glad you feel that way. I don't want you to have to hide anything from me. Thank you, by the way, for sharing this. I think I'm beginning to understand how important it is."

I turned our hands back and forth slightly, watching the shimmer of the light off his skin. Edward propped himself up on one hand, watching me curiously.

"You don't find it… strange?" he asked, a thousand other unasked questions burning in his voice. "I mean, I couldn't be more obviously not human than I am right now."

My brain was honestly trying to formulate a reply, but the position we had ended up in was a lot closer than I was expecting, closer than we had ever been before. More to the point, his breath was wafting directly into my face; the sweet scent had a mildly intoxicating effect to it, and I found myself leaning in, drawn to the mouth-watering aroma. I tilted my head towards his and let my eyes slide closed.

So fast that I probably wouldn't have noticed it if not for the yank of all the joints in my hand at once, Edward pulled away. By the time my eyes snapped open, he had completely disappeared. I whirled around, shifting to my knees, ready to move – to run away or dash towards him, I wasn't quite sure. A moment later, I found him, back in the shadows again, twenty feet away at the base of one of the larger fir trees. His face had gone totally blank, carefully curated unreadability in every line of his features. I tried to control my own shock and pain, and the touch of fear that I knew must be brewing in my eyes. I was sure I didn't do as good a job as he did.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, understanding at once that I'd pushed too far across the line. "That was too much, wasn't it?"

"One moment please," came the deceptively calm, polite reply.

For what felt like hours but was likely no more than thirty seconds, we regarded each other, both trying to regain our equilibrium after the sudden, startling interruption. Then he began approaching again, stopping short of where I still knelt in the grass, having to tilt my head back just a little to see him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What did I do?" I asked, really trying not to sound like I was begging. "Please, I don't want to make this hard for you."

Edward shook his head firmly, his expression pained. "You didn't do anything. At least, not anything more than you did the other night." We both flinched, clearly simultaneously remembering his attempted flight from my room, thwarted then by his sister and now… well, I wasn't quite sure what had stopped him this time.

"I'm just too effective a predator for my own good," he went on, his face twisting into a wry smile that I didn't like at all. "Even now, I can't seem to help thinking about all the ways I could kill you, all the ways I could entice you so you wouldn't even notice your own death. I'm sure if I wanted to, I could make you welcome it with open arms. Not that I would need to."

In a blink, he was back by the tree again. My heart hammered against my rib cage as he made a leap that seemed to take no effort at all, but which launched him ten feet straight up into the air to grab hold of a branch as thick as my thigh. It snapped off like a toothpick under his weight, and he landed back on the ground with a thump, the new log held in his hand like a javelin.

"You could never fight me," he said, almost a thoughtful musing, before pitching the tree branch across the clearing into the trunk of a sturdy hemlock that swayed alarmingly with the impact. Then he circled the treeline at a run so fast it was almost impossible to see, before returning to a spot within a few feet of me and stopping dead. "You certainly couldn't run away." His smile was almost cruel now, mocking, gloating. There was a spark of excited energy in his eyes that unnerved me. For the first time in a while, I really was afraid of him. And yet at the same time, in a very real way he had never been more beautiful to me, never so unfiltered, undiluted, and unapologetically himself.

But the spark dulled after a moment, and realisation spread across his face as what he had just done fully sank in. Shame, sharp and deep, overtook his features.

"I should go," he whispered, harsh and pained. "I should go, but I don't want to. I can't… I can't…" He reached up and twisted his hands into his hair, dropping heavily to his knees. My heart ached in sympathy, the fear dissipating quickly.

"What can I do?" I asked, feeling desperate and trying not to let it leak into my voice. Please don't run. Please stay, please.

Edward looked like he didn't know how to answer that question, and it upset him not to know. At last, he sat back on the ground so that his knees were bent up in front of him, making no move to come closer but at least looking like he wasn't ready to bolt – not that that was any indication, as he had just proved. He could be up and gone before I would even register a shift in his weight.

"Distract me?" he said at last.

"How?"

"Say something, anything. Prattle about something at school, or something Beau did, or ask me a question." He sighed heavily and his eyes closed again. "Just please, give me something else to think about."

My brain was blank for half a second, then I plucked a question from my list, an easy one but a big one that I knew he would have to talk about for a while. "Tell me about your family. Tell me about how you all came together. Who did you meet first?"

"Carine." He seemed to almost choke out the word, then after a few deep breaths he continued. "She found me in a hospital in the summer of 1918, when I was seventeen years old. I was dying and she saved my life."

I felt my eyes pop open wide, my breath catching at even the idea of his life being threatened, no matter how long ago. "Please tell me there's more to this story, because that was way too blasé of a way to make that statement."

A sharp, hard laugh burst out of him, seemingly without his permission. He still didn't seem happy, but his shoulders were starting to relax, so something about my attempt at distraction must have been working.

"Not too much more, I'm afraid," he said apologetically. "I told you I was born in 1901. I'm originally from Chicago, and I grew up in a well-to-do part of town with Edythe and our parents. I don't remember all of it clearly – or at all, if I'm honest – but I know we were happy. When the war began, I had the same dreams as most teenage boys of that time, about being a soldier and going to glory in battle. I vaguely recall that my sister and my mother both hated that idea, and we had a good few arguments about it. In the end though, it didn't matter."

My knees were beginning to ache, so I shifted to a more comfortable position, my legs out to one side of me, leaning the other way and propped up on one arm. I used the fidgeting as a cover for moving a bit closer to him, ready to move back if he protested. "Why's that?"

"Have you heard of the Spanish influenza?" When I nodded, he went on. "A silly name of course, there was nothing Spanish about it. It swept across the whole world the summer I was seventeen and on into the next year, travelling home with soldiers returning from the war and spreading like a wildfire. It seemed that nothing could stop it, and no one was safe. My family were no exception."

He was definitely more at ease than he had been, but his expression had turned contemplative, and he was gazing off into space as if he didn't see me anymore, reliving his memories.

"My father succumbed quickly, but my mother and I held on longer. While we were in the hospital, we met Carine. She was our nurse, although –" He smirked. "She probably knew more than all the doctors in the building combined. She certainly had more experience. After my mother died, Carine… took me away, and made me like her. She was on her own in those days, and I suppose she was lonely; that's usually why people choose to do it. I think she thought it was noble to save me." His smile dropped and the furrow of his brow was wry and dark. "I haven't decided yet if I agree with that."

I wanted to protest, but I sensed there was more behind his words than we could unpack in a single afternoon. I'd also noticed a gap in his story. "What happened to your sister?"

His mouth twisted in a sad half smile. "Edythe was lucky enough to be part of that small percentage of the population who were somehow naturally immune to the influenza. No one ever actually worked out a cure for it, lacking the proper scientific knowledge and equipment, I suppose. She had nursed us at home until she couldn't manage it any longer, then couldn't visit as much as she wanted because of the quarantine protocols at the hospital. When she did come, it was daytime, and Carine worked nights. She didn't realise I even had a sister until I told her, by which time it was too late. I had to accept leaving Edythe behind, just praying that she would have a good life and planning to seek her out in a few years, when I was adjusted to my new second life. Not to see her properly, of course, just to watch from a distance, just to check in. Then Carine got word that our house was up for sale, I'm not sure how, and she encouraged me to go and fetch anything that I might want before it all got packed up." A shadow crossed his face then; obviously this was a painful memory. When he spoke again, it was in a hushed tone that barely disturbed the quiet of the clearing; I had to strain slightly to hear him across the distance between us.

"At first when I arrived, I thought I was simply too late. The entire house had been emptied, top to bottom, so far as I could tell. Everything was gone, the furniture, the clothes, even the curtains and carpets. The one thing I did find was the thing I least wanted, least expected to still be there."

"What was it?" I asked in the same soft voice when he didn't immediately volunteer the answer.

His eyes were full of decades-old sadness. "It was her. My sister. She was curled up in her room, laying on a mattress on the floor under a thin blanket, just the stub of a candle offering light and warmth. She was extremely ill, fevered and delirious. At first, she thought I was an angel, come to carry her off to join me and our parents in Paradise." He gave another harsh, humourless laugh. "But she soon realised that wasn't the case. Then she asked me to help her, to let her stay with me. She was so weak, so close to dying, I couldn't say no. So I picked her up and carried her off to Carine."

My heart ached for him as he recalled it all. I tried to imagine how it would feel to find Beau in that kind of state, to have to make the choice that could decide his fate, whether he lived or died. My mind rejected it straight away – too horrible to even consider.

"What was wrong with her? And did you find out what happened to your stuff?" I asked, hoping the mundanity would continue to distract him, but ready to back off if he got any more distressed by the more serious question.

Edward shrugged very slightly. "Carine isn't entirely sure what she had. At the time, she was more focused on saving Edythe's life than getting a diagnosis, since it wouldn't exactly matter once she was changed. Pneumonia was her best bet. We got the rest of the story from Edythe herself once she was coherent again." He shifted slightly, squaring his shoulders as if to face something especially unpleasant. "She'd been left entirely alone after our parents' passing and my supposed death. We had some distant cousins, but they were far out west and in no position to offer her much in the way of support. A woman on her own in those times, even one with the education that my sister had, was always going to struggle. The easy solution would have been to get married, but even that would have been difficult without a family to support her, and my sister has always been romantic enough to only want to marry for love. My father was a lawyer by trade, so at least he had the presence of mind to have put a proper will in place, despite being relatively young. What he had left to my mother and I defaulted to Edythe as our closest living relative so she got everything. But we had lived well on Father's salary, he hadn't saved as much as he perhaps should have, and that inheritance wasn't going to last unless she had an income to supplement it. No matter what she tried, she simply couldn't find work. It was almost the end of the war and the jobs that many women had gone into were drying up, becoming unnecessary, or being given back to returning soldiers. Anything menial, she was considered overqualified for, or too well-off to demean herself with. Anything that used her intellect was either not open to women or they simply rejected her for no clear reason. She thought perhaps they thought she was too high class to work – our father had always wanted to project an image of having more than we actually had, and we were well known in certain social circles. Between hospital bills and funeral expenses for us, then just keeping herself fed and warm, she burned through most of the money she'd been left in about eight months."

I felt a pang of sympathy for Edythe. What an awful experience it must have been, to be worrying about how you were going to live while simultaneously grieving the loss of your entire family.

"Couldn't she ask for help?" I ventured. "I mean, surely your family had friends that could have given her somewhere to stay or something to fall back on."

"We did," Edward agreed, looking slightly annoyed now. "But there, unfortunately, my sister was a little too much like our father. She was always proud and independent, and she couldn't face admitting that she needed help. At first, she led everyone to believe that everything was fine, then later she simply cut herself off from society. She began gradually selling off the contents of the house, our mother's jewellery, everything that had any value, until at last all that was left was the house itself. She was already starting to get sick, so she put the sale in the hands of a property manager, essentially sold it to them at a massively reduced rate with the understanding that she could stay there until they found a buyer. She ran out of food, couldn't afford medicine, eventually didn't have the strength to get to the doctor anyway..."

He trailed off, the picture of unhappiness, a flare of subtle, sad anger in his eyes as he recalled his sister's plight. We had both, consciously or unconsciously, been shuffling closer to each other as he talked, and he was now back in my reach again. I held my hand out tentatively, remembering his reaction earlier and giving him plenty of time to pull away. In this fragile peace we had found, each touch had to be handled carefully. His warnings had penetrated that far into my head.

He didn't retreat, and I laid my hand against his cheek like I had tried to the other night. Today he leaned into it, his expression smoothing ever so slightly. I allowed myself a moment of silent celebration before I got back to the task at hand.

"She's okay now," I reminded him soothingly. "She's healthy and strong and so beautiful. You saved her, just like Carine saved you."

Chuckling softly, Edward shook his head against my hand, then took it down from his face to hold in his lap. "You sound just like her. She said almost the same thing when she finished telling me her story. I was trying to apologise, and she flat out called me an idiot."

I grinned. "I almost can't imagine that. She's always so poised and polite."

"Well, if we're being precise, she did say imbecile. It was a different time, after all."

That made me laugh, which made him smile, which made me even happier. A delightful little chain reaction – I would have to figure out a way to make it happen more often.

"So then I suppose she became like your little sister," I went on. "You got to teach her all about being a vampire."

He nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Yes, I did. Which was a bit odd for her, since she's a year my senior by birth. It rankled her a good deal to have to defer to me so much. She still likes to butt in and remind me who's in charge, more so as we've gotten older. The Women's Liberation movement was a godsend to her."

I laughed again, thinking about the hints of sass and attitude I had begun seeing from Edythe as she got more and more comfortable around me, especially this morning. I could just imagine what she would be like in full bossy big sister mode.

"What about the others? When did they show up?" He seemed calm enough now, but I was still curious.

"Earnest was next, about two years after my sister," Edward explained. "It was immediately apparent that the bond he shared with Carine was not like ours at all. We were posing as Carine's in-laws at the time, brother and sister to a deceased husband, but privately we were already falling into the dynamic of mother and children. With Earnest, it was completely different."

I smiled, trying to picture the one Cullen I hadn't seen yet; no doubt he would be as lovely and otherworldly as all the rest. "I can imagine. When you know, you know, right?"

"Absolutely. Although it was more of an instinctual knowing, if you take my meaning. It took them both a little while to consciously acknowledge what was going on. Edythe will be able to tell you as well as I can how frustrating it was to watch them circling each other, both so nervous to admit to what we saw as so painfully obvious. But I've had many opportunities since then to observe that people in love are rarely rational."

I hummed in agreement. I certainly couldn't claim to have been in possession of my usual level of rationality in the last few days.

"Rosalie was next, a little over ten years later. We were well settled into our routines and personas by then, and she had rather the effect of a wrecking ball."

I frowned, confused. "How do you mean?"

Edward made a face. "Let's just say that her change was rather... dramatic. And noticeable, as she was very prominent in the society of the city where we lived at the time. People noticed when she suddenly disappeared, and we had to be careful so as not to raise any suspicions. Not to mention she was one of the most bad-tempered new vampires I've ever met. It took Edythe and I a while to warm up to her as a sister."

"Why did Carine... change her?" I asked, testing out the unfamiliar vocabulary. "I mean, if it was going to cause a stir, why risk it?"

"Because she's a much better person than I am," he answered wryly. "It's not really my story to tell, but Rose was also on the very edge of life when our mother found her. So was Earnest. Carine would never leave someone in that state if there was something she could do about it. It just happens that for all of us, all she could do was make us like her."

I nodded, thoughtful. "That makes sense."

"She also hoped it might cheer me up," he added, the look in his eyes now amused but affectionate as he thought of his mother. "I didn't realise it until much later – somehow she kept her thoughts about it hidden – but she meant for Rosalie to be to me what Earnest was to her. A companion, someone to share my life with in a way other than I did with my sister. Even having Edythe, I think she knew I felt alone in a more fundamental way, though I wouldn't admit it and possibly didn't even realise it myself. But Rosalie and I never felt that way about each other."

This story was getting less fun; the thought of perfect, beautiful Rosalie being intended for him made it all the more unbelievable that he would really ever settle for someone like me.

Edward was either oblivious to my discomfort or kindly ignoring it as he kept talking. "Honestly, we've irritated each other since practically the moment we met. Not at all a good fit. Besides which, she met Eleanor just a few years later. Rose saved Ellie from certain death, a little like I did with Edythe, though with a rather different dynamic, as it turned out."

Now I was the one getting distracted, despite myself. I did the math in my head quickly, worked out that Eleanor and Rosalie would have met sometime in the early or mid-30s, then felt compelled to ask. "Was that… okay? In that time, I mean?"

He chuckled. "It always amuses me how people think that being gay is some new fad that didn't exist before the 1970s. I mean, there are scholars in every university in the world poring over letters and manuscripts going back centuries or even millennia, debating whether the writers were just good friends or actually lovers. The truth is, those identities have been around for as long as there have been concepts of selfhood, it's just that people are getting more open about expressing them. I'll admit, it was strange to us all at first, living with two women in a romantic relationship. It took Rosalie by surprise most of all, I don't think she'd realised that particular fact about herself until she was confronted by it."

"And Eleanor?"

Now he fully laughed. "Very aware, and very comfortable with it too. She was a lot to get used to in every way, so her sexuality was the least of our concerns, to be honest."

"What did you think? When they got together, I mean."

The smile dropped into a chagrined expression. "I'm afraid I wasn't exactly supportive of the idea right from the beginning. I blame upbringing, mostly. Like I said, LGBT people existed, but there's a reason many people think they didn't. They were much more private; it was something that was quietly swept under the rug where it wasn't openly condemned, reserved for backrooms and closed spaces. We all got quite an education in those first few months of knowing Ellie. Eventually we recognised that love is love, and the girls were very much in love. After that it became a non-issue, at least within the family. They've had to be more circumspect elsewhere, especially on the occasions they chose to live together away from the rest of us. I know it was a relief to both of them when they felt society was sufficiently advanced for them to be together openly. They've never been afraid of being physically attacked, of course, but words can be more painful than fists when wielded properly."

I thought about McKayla and Logan. "Things still aren't perfect."

He nodded in agreement. "No, they aren't. But they're getting better, and Rosalie and Eleanor have both lived with the prejudices long enough now to have developed appropriately thick skins. Who knows, maybe in a few years they'll finally get to have that legal wedding Rose has been dreaming about for seventy years. The civil union ceremonies have been nice, but she rather covets the recognition of being truly married, like our parents or Alice and Jasper."

I'd wondered when we would get to them. "So they're the newest?"

"Yes, and both rather interesting cases." At my arched eyebrow, he quickly continued. "Unlike the rest of us, they weren't changed by Carine and… brought up, for lack of a better description, in our lifestyle. They developed their conscience, as we call it, on their own for the most part. Edythe told you about Alice's gift?"

I nodded. "She sees the future. And she saw that she and Jasper were going to be together and part of your family. Edythe said without that, she might have gone crazy because she was all on her own and didn't remember being human."

"That's right." He looked impressed that I'd remembered it so well, and I couldn't help preening a little. "She used her visions of us as her example and taught herself to hunt animals and develop her control around humans. She'll be the first to admit she was never perfect, but it is impressive what she managed to accomplish on her own. Jasper had a little more trouble, largely because of how long he lived... traditionally, shall we say, before Alice found him. But he knew by then that he didn't like what he was doing, and he was looking for another way to live. She just gave him a direction. It shocked all of us to no end when they showed up, I can tell you. But we were happy to have them and they seemed to round out our family quite nicely."

I grinned, trying to picture that encounter and hoping I would get the full story someday. "So that's everybody."

Edward hummed. "Yes, that's everyone. All the happy couples."

The last part came out in a sardonic tone, but I could somehow tell he wasn't angry about having been surrounded by so many romantic pairs for so long; there was a palpable affection in his tone as he talked about all the members of his family, even those who apparently irritated him. I giggled as I remembered what Beau had said on that first lunch time back in January, when he'd been pointing out the Cullens to me. "And you the seventh wheel. Or I guess it would be ninth now, if you include Beau."

He rolled his eyes at me, but he was still smiling. "Yes, although that's obviously a fairly new development. Until we came here, my sister and I were two odd wheels together, our own different kind of pair. But she had to go and spoil it by falling in love at last. I'll admit, part of my anger at her when she started dating Beau may have been more about feeling abandoned than worrying for the preservation of our secret."

"Do you think it makes you closer to her than you are with the others?" I wondered. "You know, being biologically related."

He considered that for a long moment before he spoke. "Hard to say. There's a degree of mutual history leading to a deeper connection, I suppose, but most of our human memories have faded at this point so I don't think it's entirely that. Besides, after so many years, we have as many shared experiences with the others as with each other, so I don't believe it makes much difference. But I suppose, if I was forced to pick a favourite sibling, it would still be her."

We fell silent for a while then; I had no follow-up questions, and it was really just one of those moments where there wasn't anything that needed to be said. He was studying our hands intently, stroking his thumb against my knuckles. The reflections off his skin made rainbow patterns on mine. It was beautiful, but it also served to further highlight the stark difference between the two hands and, by extension, the two people that they belonged to.

"Thank you," Edward murmured softly, breaking the stillness of the moment and drawing me half an inch out of my increasing depression. "And I'm sorry, again, for my behaviour. I can't seem to stop making mistakes with you."

I shook my head. "You know how you keep saying I should be able to do what comes naturally? That applies to you too. I don't need you to pretend to be human for me, Edward. At this point, I wouldn't fall for it anyway."

He chuckled. "Yes, I think you're in rather too deep now, aren't you?"

"Definitely." I smiled. "And thank you, for this." I held up our joined hands and then let them rest on his lap again. "For coming back, letting me get close again."

"Well, I'm essentially a selfish creature. I enjoy your company far too much." His smile was back, a cheeky half-grin. Then his expression turned a little more serious. "Are you still afraid?"

I put my hand back on his cheek; his eyes slipped closed and he leaned into the touch once again.

"I'm not afraid of you," I promised. "The only thing I fear is losing you, of not being enough to keep you here."

I was being far too honest, and I could see the pain my words caused him when he opened his eyes. But this was a space of honesty, of openness. In the same way that he could show me things here that he couldn't do anywhere else, I could say things that I wouldn't have the courage to say in the cafeteria or his car or my bedroom. I didn't care right this second how desperate it made me sound; he had to know.

Gently, as if I were as delicate as the flowers that surrounded us, Edward cupped my face in his hands. Though his skin was still cold, I thought it might be just a few degrees warmer, heated by the sun and the prolonged contact with my own skin.

"Bella," he said in his softest, most intense voice, sending a light shiver up my spine. "One of the more regrettable things about my kind is that we do not change easily, or often. I have been the same, not just physically but also mentally, for most of a century. Change only comes for us in big ways, in massive shifts in our way of thinking or living." His thumb brushed over my cheek, then slipped down to trace my lower lip. My mouth was hanging open slightly, but I couldn't have closed it if I tried; all my focus was on him as he went on.

"You have been one such change for me. Somewhere between that first look in the cafeteria and now, you have become the most important thing in my life. Whatever you may doubt about me – and I will not pretend there is nothing in my past that might cause you to rethink your choice once you hear it – please, never doubt that you are everything that I want."

I knew I should say something, but I couldn't find the words. His scent, his touch, his very presence had rendered my mind entirely blank, and all I could do was keep breathing so I didn't pass out from the sheer overwhelming force of Edward. My heart was pounding and I could feel the blood rushing into my cheeks; I knew this was the opposite of helpful and that he was sure to be affected by both, but I was in no position to even try and calm my body down.

If he was bothered by my treacherous circulatory system, Edward didn't show it. On the contrary, he stroked my cheek again and whispered, "So beautiful," before leaning closer towards me.

"Stay very still," he murmured as his face approached mine, and I did my best to comply, given the complete departure of any sense of stability I might once have had.

His hands left my face and skimmed down the side of my neck, light as feathers but still very much there. He paused for a split second with his fingertips over my still hammering pulse, then continued over my shoulders, down my arms and under, tucking around my sides to my back. He pulled me the last inch towards him, closing the space between us completely so I was practically in his lap. My hands lay limp between us; I wanted to hold him in return, but his instruction to stay still, though soft and gentle, had clearly been a warning, and one I could not ignore. We sat there, nose to nose and staring into each other's eyes, for a moment that felt like an hour, until his eyes slipped closed and he began to bring his face even closer to mine. My own eyes flickered shut on impulse as he laid his cheek against mine, his face buried in the fall of my hair. His cold breath brushed against the side of my neck in a slow, regular rhythm. It was a glorious sensation.

Too soon – it would always be too soon – he was pulling away, a peace and serenity in his smile that I had never seen before.

"This won't be so hard again," he said with confidence, the ring of a promise in his voice.

"Good," I whispered, rather surprised that I even still had a voice. "I don't like the thought of this being a struggle for you."

His smile turned sad. "I'm afraid there will always be some struggle. But not as much as there has been. Every moment I spend with you, it gets easier, and that gives me some comfort."

"Me too."

Edward slowly leaned in again, this time gently resting his forehead against mine so that the tips of our noses brushed. His skin was almost warm now, not quite the same temperature as mine but very close. The urge to hold him returned, and now that I knew he was comfortable I felt confident enough to pull back slightly and whisper, "Don't move." The command wouldn't be enough if he decided he needed to run again, but perhaps it would at least give him an idea of my intentions so he wasn't startled.

No one could do still quite like Edward. With his eyes still calmly closed, he was like a chiselled statue again, completely devoid of life. Yet when I cautiously raised my hands to cup his face like he had done with mine, I could feel the soft breeze of his breath still blowing out from his nose. I ran my fingers gently across his cheekbones and round the line of his jaw. Softly, so softly, I touched his bottom lip with my thumb, mirroring his touch from before. His lips parted very slightly with a short sharp intake of breath, but otherwise he remained motionless. Watching his face for any reaction as I went, I traced down his neck, pausing at the collar of his shirt before continuing on over his chest. For the first time, I could really feel the planes of his torso, hard and sculpted, lean muscle that easily went unnoticed under his usual layers of clothing but which felt full of power even in stillness. I moved in closer, leaning in slowly until my head came to rest on his collar bone, sliding my hands around his sides until I was holding him as securely as he held me. Though he wasn't exactly the softest of pillows, there was something so warm and right about the embrace that I felt safe and comfortable. The statue unfroze just for a moment as he tightened his arms slightly around me and laid his head against mine. I wasn't about to complain; I could happily stay here forever.

But the world had other plans. The sky was beginning to darken, and I realised suddenly just how long we had been there.

"We should probably get going," I said reluctantly, feeling a worried frown crease my forehead as I unwillingly moved far enough back to see his face again. "If we don't leave soon, it will be dark before we even get back to the truck, and Charlie wanted us back for dinner."

Edward's serene smile widened, an excited glimmer entering his eyes. "If it's time you're worried about, I may have a solution." At my curious head tilt, he elaborated. "I can get us back to the truck much faster, and you'll get to see how I move through the forest. It's not quite hunting, but it might satisfy a bit of your curiosity."

He stood up and I rose with him, having to lean heavily on him to stabilise myself and stretching a bit once I was up; sitting on the ground all afternoon had apparently not done my back any favours. Or my knees.

I knew it would sound stupid, but I couldn't help asking. "Are we going to fly?"

One of his rare, loud laughs burst out, and I started laughing along on impulse.

"No, not quite," he said once he'd calmed down some. "Now, come here and get on my back."

I gave him an 'are you serious' look, but he only turned around and held his hands out, clearly ready to pull me into a piggyback. I vacillated for half a second before realising that if my choice was between whatever he had planned or another hike through the woods, I much preferred to take a chance on the unknown. Still, it was an awkward bit of manoeuvring to do, so I was hesitant as I approached and placed my hands on his shoulders. Never having actually been held like this, at least in my memory, I wasn't quite sure what to do next, but Edward didn't hesitate; he bent down slightly and reached back, hooking his hands behind my knees and pulling me up as if I weighed nothing at all. All I had to do was follow the movement and wrap my arms and legs firmly around him, a position which might have been awkward had we not just been so closely entwined when we were sitting face to face. I knew I was probably holding him too tightly now, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Hold on," he warned unnecessarily, and then we were off.

Any fear I had ever felt around him paled in comparison to what I felt as Edward hurtled through the forest like a bullet. His run was very smooth, with none of the bouncing up and down that one might have expected, but the sheer speed of it offset any comfort that might have given me. Trees seemed to come up to meet us and were narrowly avoided, passing so fast that I didn't even feel the whip of leaves against my skin. I wanted to close my eyes, but they felt locked open; every part of me was frozen, all my conscious and unconscious focus fixed on keeping my grip around his neck and waist. I wasn't even entirely sure that I was breathing anymore.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The hours-long hike has taken him no more than a few minutes; as he slowed to a gentle jog then stopped beside the truck, Edward wasn't showing any signs of exertion, not even breathing heavily despite the breakneck pace of his run.

"What do you think?" he asked, a clear tone of excitement in his voice as he let go of his light hold under my knees.

I knew I should let go of him and get down, but I was rather afraid that if I moved I would fall. My limbs refused to unlock and my heart was still hammering in my chest.

"Bella?" Edward sounded concerned now, and reached around to touch my back lightly. "Are you alright?"

My throat felt too dry for words, but I somehow managed to squeak out a quiet, "Help."

"Oh no," he murmured, then quickly but gently manoeuvred me around his body until I was cradled against his front, in a similar position to when he'd carried me to the nurse's office, only much closer. I wasn't quite sure how he managed it, given how tightly I'd been holding on, but I wasn't about to argue. My head was too busy spinning to focus on anything, so I couldn't enjoy the moment as much as I wanted to, and then he was setting me gently on a soft and miraculously dry patch of moss.

"I'm sorry," Edward said as he sat down next to me, stroking my hair gently back from my face. "God, look at you, you've gone as white as... well, as me, honestly."

"It was... very interesting," I replied weakly, trying to control my breathing. "But I think I should have closed my eyes."

"Put your head between your knees," he suggested. "It might help."

It did reduce the spinning somewhat; after a minute or two, the ground between my feet stopped shifting and became comfortably solid again. I still moved slowly as I sat up, closing my eyes just in case. A cool breeze wafted across my face at just the right moment, and I tilted my head to make full use of it.

Another rush of cool air touched my cheek, but I could smell that intoxicating sweetness that told me this was Edward's breath. A moment later, it was joined by his voice, soft and inviting, barely breaking the silence.

"Open your eyes, Bella."

I obeyed on instinct, and there he was, an inch away from my face. Was he closer than he had been back in the meadow? It was hard to tell; the proximity stole away any equilibrium I had managed to regain.

"I've been thinking... there's something I've wanted to try all day," he murmured softly.

I couldn't find my voice even if I'd tried, but I knew I would agree to almost anything he asked in that moment. A dim, very much smothered voice in the back of my head warned that this was a dangerous line of thinking. The rest of my brain kindly but firmly told her to shut up and enjoy the moment.

Like in the meadow, Edward gently took my face in his hands and leaned towards me. Unlike before though, he wasn't headed into my hair. In fact, there was no mistaking his intended destination. Yet at the very last moment, he paused. Not a normal moment of hesitation, to see if I would let him do what he so clearly wanted to do – which I would – or to heighten the delightful tension before the connection was finally made. This pause was evaluative, clinical almost. This was a test if whether he was still in control of himself.

And then he pressed his lips to mine in the gentlest, most delicate kiss.

What neither of us was prepared for was my response.

It was like someone flipped a switch in my brain, and suddenly I wasn't in control of myself anymore. Where I'd managed to sit perfectly still back in the clearing as he'd... explored, for lack of a better word, now it felt like a flame had been lit inside me that made stillness impossible, and before I knew what I was doing my arms had wrapped around him and my fingers were laced through his hair. I gasped in a breath around his lips, taking in the delicious scent of him which seemed to saturate the air. For half a second, I was in heaven.

I should probably have predicted what happened next.

Edward went completely still under my hands. Gently but with an irresistible force, he pushed my face back from his. There was something in his eyes that made me think that maybe he was feeling at least some of whatever strange rush had taken me over so suddenly. But there was a guardedness to the look too, a careful non-expression that was somehow worse than if he had been outwardly angry with me.

"Oops," I breathed.

The laugh he let out was short, sharp and completely devoid of real humour. "I would say that about sums it up, yes."

"Should I..." I went to move away but he didn't release his hold and instead shook his head.

"Just stay still a moment, while I recover myself."

I did my best to obey, and found I appreciated the moment to collect myself as well; I managed to steady my breathing, which also had the added effect of slowing my racing heartbeat.

When both of us were feeling more like ourselves again, Edward smiled widely. The sight was enough to make my heart start thumping all over again, but I willed it to settle down.

"Better?" I asked.

He nodded. "Apparently I have more strength than I thought. A successful first attempt, all things considered."

I cringed just a little. "I'm sorry about... that. I'm not quite sure where it came from."

"You're only human," he reminded me with a twinkle in his eye, finally releasing my face and moving back a little bit.

"Still," I insisted. "I seem to be making all the mistakes today. I want to make this as easy for you as I can."

"It's okay," he insisted, putting a comforting arm around me and squeezing just slightly. "It's just that when you're already so close, sudden movements make me more aware of you, your scent, your heartbeat, how easily I could get to your pulse points..." He trailed off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "But it's tolerable right now."

"Got it," I said, tucking my hands under my arms to hide my wrists and ducking my chin so my neck was less exposed. "Keep the pulse points out of reach."

That got a real laugh out of him, one that seemed to shake the trees and which I was fairly sure caused a few startled birds to take to the sky nearby. Once again, I smiled on impulse at his joy.

He was still grinning as he stood and carefully helped me back to my feet. It was definitely getting towards evening now, and I knew we needed to get going if we were going to make it back to the house by dinner time. I started heading for the truck, but Edward held me firm with a gentle hand on my arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, perturbed now.

"Home?" I frowned. "Was that not where we were going before you decided to make me motion sick for the first time in my life, then use my weakened and defenceless state to make advances?"

He gave me a dour look that said he didn't appreciate the sarcasm. "I meant, why are you headed for the driver's seat? There's no way I'm letting you behind the wheel of a vehicle in this condition."

I put my hands on my hips, fully glaring now. "And what condition would that be?"

He was grinning, which was at least progress, but I was getting too annoyed to be pleased that he wasn't angry anymore. "Recovering from motion sickness, as you have just so prudently pointed out. Not to mention the apparently intoxicating effect of my kissing skills."

It was my turn to give the disgruntled look. "I am absolutely fine, thank you very much."

I undid my own efforts by swaying as I tried to move around him, so that he had to take hold of my arm again to steady me. His eyes were concerned now when I looked up into them.

"Please, Bella," he entreated in that tone that was impossible to resist. "Let me get you home safe."

After all his worries about bringing me home at all, it would have been just plain mean to deny him, even if I had had the willpower to resist those eyes. But so that he didn't get the idea that he could always get his way like this – even though he probably could – I made a show of being highly reluctant as I handed over the keys with a big, long suffering sigh.

"Thank you," Edward said once he had the keys to the truck firmly in hand.

"Be gentle," I warned. "You'll have to answer to me and Beau if you send the beast to an early grave."

He arched an eyebrow. "That may not be entirely in my control. Honestly, I'm genuinely surprised it's survived this long. But I will make an effort to keep it in good working order. Edythe would never forgive me if I upset Beau."

I bit back the snarky comment I wanted to make in favour of accepting his helping hand into the passenger seat, and then pointedly ignoring his martyred expression as he turned the truck around and started back towards my house.